Chapter 13
CHAPTER 13
Nero
“ T here’s something you should see,” Davide says as he pulls out his laptop and opens it with a swift motion.
While I wait for him to boot it and navigate through endless security protocols, I dig out a pack of cigarettes. And then I do the same thing I’ve been doing for the past few days since Sofia told me she didn’t like the smell of my cigarettes. I stuff them back into my pocket.
“No lighter, boss? I’ve got one in my bag,” he offers.
If only a lack of lighter were my biggest problem. “Don’t worry about it. I think I’m going to quit,” I reply, though the words feel heavier than I’d expected.
Davide doesn’t show his surprise—he’s too professional for that. But I can sense his curiosity hovering between us, like a silent question mark that hangs in the air. I choose not to address it, remaining silent.
“Here,” Davide finally says, pointing to the laptop screen. I lean in closer, trying to make out the grainy video playing before us.
“What am I looking at?” I ask.
“Fucking Tony,” he snarls. “He’s in bed with the Cartel.”
In the shaky video, Tony is leaning against the side of a ceramic shop. Beside him stands a thin man with sharp eyes and an even sharper smile. I’d recognize Juan Alvarez anywhere. He’s a notorious figure, the devil incarnate in the world of crime, his hand in every slice of the pie—mostly the dirty, unsavory slices.
“What’s he doing with him?”
“Beats me,” Davide shrugs. “But I’ve been tracking Tony’s offshore accounts, and there’s a steady stream of untraceable income. I’m betting if I follow the money trail, it’ll lead us straight to Alvarez.”
“Get solid evidence linking Tony to Alvarez,” I command, my tone firm. “And wait for my orders before you share it with the others.” I straighten up and dig my hands into my pockets. “Do you have his location?”
“Tony or Alvarez?”
“Tony.”
“He’s on his docked boat with his mistress,” Davide informs me, rattling off the location with precise detail.
I nod, processing the information. I make my way out of the backroom of the empty bar and step out into the street. This side of town is nearly deserted, a remnant of its days under the reign of a notorious gang years ago. It’s the perfect place for Davide and me to conduct our meetings, away from Lucchese’s prying eyes.
My entire strategy hinges on the fact that Lucchese doesn’t see me as a threat. He must remain calm and unsuspecting.
Setting his room on fire, however, has had the exact opposite effect. Since the wedding weekend, security at the Lucchese estate has been tightened to the max. The most aggravating part is that Sebastian is now keeping his wife tethered to his side like she’s his personal guide dog. I haven’t had a single moment alone with her.
Maybe it’s for the best. Maybe I don’t need another chance to get my hands and mouth on her. God knows I won’t stop until I’ve had my fill, six ways to Sunday.
My hands twitch for my cigarette, but I curl them into fists in my pocket and throw my legs over my waiting bike. Fastening on my helmet, I take off in the direction of Tony’s boat. My mind should be full of rage about one of my partners getting himself involved with a man like Alvarez, but instead, the only thing I can think of is what it’ll feel like for Sofia to be at the back seat of the bike, arms wrapped around my waist clutching tight with her breasts pressed against me.
Gritting my teeth, I try to chase away the image.
Try and fail.
I’m only too glad when I see The Giavonna , Tony’s boat. The bike revs to a stop and I climb off it and deposit my helmet.
I walk leisurely across the boardwalk and spot a single guard in front of the boat smoking. “I’m looking for Tony.”
He must recognize me, because he nods immediately and steps aside. “Go on in, boss. I’ll warn you to knock before you open any doors.” The man laughs.
I step onto the boat and then take the stairs down into the lower rooms. A sound of a man laughing draws me in the right direction toward a red door located at the back. I knock, uninterested in seeing more of Tony than I ever care to.
“Who the hell is it?” the man barks.
“It’s Castello.”
“Shit.” There’s panic in his voice that I immediately narrow my eyes at. “A minute! If you could wait for me on the upside, we need to put our parts away.” A nervous laugh follows.
And then I hear it—a whimper. Without another thought, I raise my leg and drive my booted feet into the bottom of the wooden door. There’s a scream as the door flies open.
“I told you to wait!” he snaps, his face getting red in fury. “Can’t a man get privacy on his own property? This is out of line, Castello, you can’t just come?—”
I tune out the rest of his words and my eyes take in the other occupants of the room. His mistress, a buxom red head, is clutching the bedsheets to her body, but I’m not as interested in her as I am the golden-haired girl curled up in one corner, sobbing.
“Get up.” My order slices through the room and makes Tony’s mouth snap shut.
The girl looks up and meets my eyes, then shakily rises to her feet.
Damn it all.
“How old are you?”
Bottom lip trembling, she hugs her thin arms around herself. “Thirteen.”
I cross the room, shrugging off my jacket as I walk and then toss it toward her, before turning my attention back to Tony and his mistress.
“You have no right to be here!”
“Neither does she,” I say coldly. To the girl, I add, “Close your eyes.”
Tony opens his mouth to protest, but the sound of my gun firing freezes him. He watches in horror as his mistress’s head erupts into a spray of red. The girl behind me screams in terror.
“What the bloody hell, Castello! Is this how you intend on being a bully when you take over from Lucchese? If you think you can kill me and get away with it, you should think again,” he roars. “The men love me, they trust me. They sure as hell don’t trust you. If you kill me, your whole Kingdom will crumble, and you’ll have just wasted all those years of hard work.”
I step closer and closer to him during his bullshit speech till I’m right in front of him. He stares up at me with false bravado, but I can see through it—the sweat on his forehead, the tremble in his body.
I smile then fire. Aiming for his thighs. He drops to the ground, groaning and screaming. That’s when I hear the sound of footsteps rushing down.
I raise my head and wait for the guard to come into view. The man skids to a stop at the door, takes in the scene, then his gaze flies to the girl behind me and go saucer wide and horrified.
“I-I didn’t know about this, I swear!” he stammers. “I have a daughter about her age. I could never condone this. You have to believe me, boss.”
“Get off the boat,” I order. A moment later, he’s hurrying down the hallway.
I spot a handcuff on the edge of the bed and grab it, then squat down to cuff one wrist of Tony and the other to the foot of the bed.
Glancing over my shoulder at the girl, who is now staring at me with something like adoration, I jerk my head toward the door. “Get out of here.”
“Nowhere t-to g-go,” she stammers, her accent catching my attention. She’s not Italian. I wonder how long she’s been here to have learned the language. Jesus Christ, these men are sick.
I ignore Tony’s pleas and motion at the girl to follow me. “Grab some pants first.”
I find the kitchen and turn off the gas pipe. Together, we leave the boat. Once we’re at a safe distance, I flick my lighter, igniting the gas. My bike speeds away from the docks, and behind us, thick smoke rises from the ruins of The Giavonna.
I leave the girl with Davide’s girlfriend while he starts locating her family. By the time I return to the Lucchese compound, I’m exhausted and my guard is down. I’ve had to answer a lot of calls from associates who commended my ability to get rid of the filth.
Nobody is going to be missing Tony and, in fact, his death just opened a channel to an association with a rival of his who refused to join me because of his involvement.
The entire time, Sofia hasn’t been too far from my mind, and I’m wondering if she ever will be. Will there ever be a time when I won’t think about the green-eyed woman? I’m so lost in thought that I don’t realize I’ve made my way to the greenhouse until I spot a familiar frame leaning over a pot of petunias.
What Sofia doesn’t know is that growing up, I used to help to care for the flowers here, and since my return, I’ve been trimming, watering, and replanting them.
Feeling my presence, she spins around to face me and, like every other time, I lose my breath. She’s in a lilac-form-fitting dress that has a cute white collar. Her hands are clasped in front of her primly, but the look in her eyes is anything but prim.
I’m not sure Sofia realizes how she looks at me. And if her dead-brained husband wasn’t so obtuse, he’d have seen through her a long time ago.
“Princess,” I rasp, leaning against the wall. “Where’s your other half? I was starting to think he’d stitched your sides together.”
“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” she replies, swallowing nervously. “Where have you been?”
I chuckle, letting my shoulder relax against the wall. Damn, I love it when she’s feisty for me. “Were you looking for me?”
“No.”
“Hmm.”
A v forms in between her eyebrows as they dip into a frown. “You’re not supposed to answer a question with another question.”
“Are you the language police?”
“You’re infuriating.” Her lips purse, and I imagine a hundred things I would love to do to that mouth.
A charged silence hangs in the air. I watch her silently as she swallows, clenches her fists, and shifts from foot to foot.
“I want to show you something,” I finally say, turning toward the row of flowers behind me. It’s a part of the greenhouse that’s mostly left in darkness except at specific times.
“What?” Her heels click as she follows me, stepping closer into the shadowy nook. “Nero?”
I pull the light switch, and the fluorescents overhead flicker to life. Then I drag the tarpaulin off one of the beds.
She gasps. “They’re blue!”
I nod. “Blue roses.”
“Can I touch them?”
That innocent question hits me like a sledgehammer. I swear I feel it all the way down to my balls, and I reply through gritted teeth. “Yes.”
She leans forward to brush her fingers over the petals of the blue rose and then her eyes fly to mine. She’s close enough for her smell to fill my nose, and choke the reality in my head that she’s not mine to a painful death.
“They’re beautiful,” she whispers, her voice a tender caress.
“Yes, they are.” Neither of us have taken our eyes off each other. Then I open my mouth and cast myself to hell. “Has he touched you?” Has his touch replaced mine on your skin?
Her breath shudders out of her. “I told him I wasn’t feeling too well, and he asked me if I was on my period.”
“And are you?”
Silence falls between us, charged and heavy. There’s no spoken dialogue, but an unspoken one between our bodies. We both feel it. The way she’s looking at me now tells me it’s only a matter of time before the inevitable happens. I need to be sure she’s completely on board, so I ask again.
“I asked you a question, Sofia.” My voice is barely a whisper.
Her breath shudders out of her, and she closes her eyes before opening them and giving me the answer that burns down my whole fucking world. “To him, yes. To you, no.”
I lower my head to hers, handing the devil gasoline and a matchbox.
It was only a matter of time anyway.